Just Desserts
by feygele
Summary: Or, We Accept the Chocolate Heart-Shaped Candies We Think We Deserve: A Valentine's Day Story.


Valentine's Day fell on an unseasonably warm Friday that year. The sky was clear and it was barely even freezing, a beautiful day to go outside for recess. Cartman could hear the distant shriek of children's laughter from where he sat at his desk.

Unfortunately Mr. Garrison's class was finishing up a week's worth of lunch detentions on account of some inflammatory remarks found scrawled on the blackboard regarding the Jews. Hypothetically the class-wide punishment could have been lifted if the perpetrator were willing to come forward, but so far nobody had been willing to own up to it. Which, really, as Cartman had very helpfully pointed out, it could have been written by anyone. There wasn't even any proof that it had been written by anyone in their class.

However, the principal had been called in on this one, and she did not see Cartman's point.

Today, instead of sitting at their desks in quiet contemplation while their teacher flipped through the latest issue of _100% Beef_, they were granted permission to decorate some brown paper bags for Valentine's Day.

Cartman put the last glittery heart sticker on his bag, just above the _i_ of the _Eric_ written with red crayon in hesitant cursive. He stood the bag upright at the front of his desk and fidgeted impatiently, waiting for the rest of his classmates to finish.

After an interminable amount of time, Mr. Garrison finally spoke up. "All right, class. You can start handing out your gay little valentines now." He remained seated with his feet up on his desk, slowly flipping through his magazine, poorly concealed inside a math textbook.

"Ugh, _finally_," Cartman said as he all but fell out of his seat. He grabbed the plastic bag his mother had packed for him with the racecar valentines she had written out the night before, each with a single Tootsie Pop taped to the back.

He reached in and grabbed a card at random, then ran over to the corresponding desk. "One for Millie," he announced as he dropped it in her bag with a flourish. She stared back at him blankly.

Cartman huffed indignantly and moved on. "One for Token," he said and dropped one in his bag. "One for Craig." He passed by his own desk and peeked inside his bag. There was nothing in there yet. God, his classmates were slow.

He grabbed another card out of his bag and moved on to the next desk. "One for Jimmy," he said and dropped it in. Jimmy was shuffling down the aisle ahead of him. His shoulders were hunched and he didn't turn around.

Cartman made sure Kyle was in earshot when he approached his desk, fumbling ostentatiously in his plastic bag. "Mmmmm, none for Kyle," he announced loudly. Kyle glared at him but, disappointingly, had nothing to say.

Cartman passed back by his own desk again and peeked into his bag there. Still nothing inside. He frowned, feeling just the tiniest inkling of concern.

He pulled out another valentine and moved on. "One for Heidi," he said slowly, and dropped it in. "One for Jenny," he said. He looked around and saw Jenny scowling at him from where she stood a couple of rows over. He quickly dropped her card in her bag and scurried off.

"One for Stan," he mumbled. Stan was buddied up with Kyle, the two of them laughing together as they handed out their valentines in pairs.

As he walked past his desk again he noticed Butters giving him a funny look, some sort of a deeply uncomfortable expression of sympathy that made Cartman very nervous. He checked his own valentine bag - still empty.

Cartman approached Clyde, who was already seated back at his desk. He grinned up at Cartman with a mouth full of chocolate, then mumbled a surprised, "Oh, wait," and quickly turned away. Cartman dropped his valentine on his desk and hurried on.

"One for Annie," he muttered, rushing to get rid of the rest of his valentines. "One for Bradley, one for Jason, one for Butters."

Once he'd delivered every last valentine - except for Kyle's, like hell he was giving one to Kyle - he sat down at his desk. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't want to check his bag at all. Maybe if he packed it up nicely, he could just stick it in his backpack and pretend he was waiting until he got home to look at it.

"Hey, Cartman," Kyle said as he sat down across the aisle from him. "Get any valentines?" he asked around the lollipop in his mouth.

"What? Yes," he answered, pulling his bag close. "Of course. Plenty. Besides," he said narrowing his eyes. "I thought Jews weren't allowed to eat valentine candy."

"What?" Kyle squawked. "Of course they are. You're thinking of diabetics, you idiot."

"Right," Cartman said. "Sorry, what debilitating illness was it that's ravaging your frail little body again?"

"Shut up," Kyle said, lollipop clicking against his teeth. "You don't know anything about my body." He turned away in a huff.

Cartman looked fretfully around the room. Almost all the other kids were back at their desks now, smiling as they sorted through their bags full of cards and candy. Kenny saw him looking and gave him an apologetic half-shrug. Kenny never gave out valentines.

Cartman saw Butters looking at him again with that weird constipated look on his face. He frowned and was about to ask what the fuck was wrong with him, but Butters flushed and twirled around in his seat to face the opposite direction.

Cartman's heart thudded painfully. The tips of Butters' ears were turning red. Cartman opened up his valentine bag hesitantly, curiosity and hope tugging at his chest.

There was a single valentine inside, but it was a big one. Cartman pulled it out slowly, hugging his empty bag to his chest. It was a hand made heart cut out of a piece of red construction paper, folded in half to form a card.

The front said "Dear Eric" in careful print. There were stickers along the edges and across the back, rainbows and tiny hearts and Hello Kitty faces.

He held his breath as he opened the card. On the inside there was no signature, just more stickers and a single anonymous sentence written with black crayon in the same careful print:

"You can be a real asshole sometimes."

Cartman silently placed the valentine back in his bag, then crumpled the whole bag in his fist and shoved it in his desk. He put his head down on his arms and glared at Butters so hard it made his eyes water. He wondered how long that little shit would get grounded for if Cartman told his parents he'd been using profanity at school. The thought of Butters locked up in his room for six weeks made Cartman feel a little better.

"Oh," he heard Butters say. Then he stood up haltingly and shuffled over to Cartman's desk. "I almost forgot," he said, and placed two chocolate hearts on the desk in front of him.

Cartman looked down. He looked back up at Butters suspiciously. "These are for me?" he asked.

"Well, sure," Butters said, wringing his hands together awkwardly. "Happy Valentine's Day, Eric."

Cartman sighed resignedly. He popped a chocolate heart into his mouth. "Happy Valentine's Day, Butters."


End file.
